


The Bet

by bluebellsandcocklesshells



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Bartender!Castiel, Dean doesn't know he's gay for Cas, M/M, gradstudent!Dean
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-04
Updated: 2016-05-04
Packaged: 2018-06-06 07:14:40
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,842
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6744655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluebellsandcocklesshells/pseuds/bluebellsandcocklesshells





	The Bet

“You want to ‘help warm up my southern slopes?’” the blonde asked with disgusted derision.  “Here’s something you can help with.  Please maintain a twenty-foot no-perv boundary around me.  Thanks.”

The woman turned back to her drink and Dean felt something akin to embarrassment, but not quite, at the woman’s rejection.  He stood up from the bar chair and walked down to the other end, giving her at least the twenty feet she asked for.  He may use corny, suggestive, and sometimes pervy pick-up lines, but he wasn’t a creep.

The bartender was fighting an amused smirk as he mixed some fruity cocktail.  Dean gave him a warning look, but didn’t engage him until after the man had poured the mix into two martini glasses, garnished them with curlicues of lemon peel, and then set them to the side for a waiter to pick up.

“Hey, can I open a tab?” Dean asked, holding out his credit card.

“Of course,” the man replied, taking his card and entering it into his system.  He tucked the card away in a small accordion folder and then leaned on his side of the bar, stretching over the ice bin, and grinned at Dean.  He was cute with dark hair and blue eyes that Dean could admit were pretty even if they were on a dude, but he was still a dude and Dean wasn’t interested in the flirty smile.

“What can I do you for you, Mr. Winchester?”

“You can get me a beer.  Anything on draft.  But no artisanal microbrew shit.”

“Okay.”

The man stood up and expertly drafted a glass of Yuengling.  He set the drink if front of Dean and then leaned back on the bar.  Dean took a sip of his drink and eyed the bartender.

“What can I do for you…”  Dean glanced at his nametag and made a face.  “Cas-tee-el?”

“Probably a lot of things,” the man chuckled lewdly, and Dean…kind of blushed?  “But first I was wondering if you could share with me your masterful techniques for picking up snow bunnies.”

Dean sat back in his chair with a scoff and roll of his eyes.  This was all Sam’s fault.  “Let’s go skiing!” he’d said.  The Winchester clan had been spread out to the four corners of the States for a couple of years now.  John was running boot camp at Camp Peary, Sam was in his senior year at Stanford, Dean was mightily regretting his decision to go back to school to get a Masters in Engineering at MIT, and Mary was holding down the fort in Lawrence because she hadn’t wanted to uproot and move to North Carolina for a three year assignment only for John to retire at the end of it and leave them stuck with nowhere to go once they were kicked out of base housing.

They only saw each other at holidays, and that wasn’t always guaranteed, so Sam had insisted they all make plans to meet up over Sam’s and Dean’s winter breaks for a long vacation together.  They’d argued on locations for weeks, but Sam and Mary had eventually won and now they were all in Jackson Hole, Wyoming (because apparently it had the best ski lift anywhere and why that was the deciding factor Dean didn’t understand but the tram operator did play Led Zeppelin), and while Sam and his parents were off getting ski lessons and attempting the bunny slope, Dean had opted to stay at the lodge and find some hot chick to spend some time in the hot tub with him.  His first attempt had not gone well and now some jackass bartender was making fun of him.

“Laugh it up,” Dean said gruffly.  “Everybody has an off day.  I can get any tail in this room.”

“Is that so?”

“Yep.”

“Would you back that up with cash?”

“Name your price, name the chick.”

“Fifty dollars.  And…that one.”

Dean looked where Castiel was pointing.  It was the chick that had just rejected him.  He smiled.

“Sure.  Get ready to pay my bar tab.”

The man straightened and smiled like he knew he was about to get fifty dollars off a sucker and Dean got out of his chair.  He walked back to the woman and leaned on the bar next to her.

“Hey.”

She turned with a smile and then made a face when she saw him.

“I know.  I deserve that.  I wanted to apologize.  I thought I was being funny, but I was crude and disrespectful.  I sincerely apologize.”

The woman’s features softened.  “I appreciate that.  Most guys would never admit that they were being dicks.”

Dean dropped his head with a self-deprecating laugh.  “Yeah.  I hate to admit I used to be one of them, but after minoring in Women’s Studies at college, I definitely learned a lot and I have no excuse for the way I treated you because I really did know better.  Anyway, thank you for accepting my apology.  Enjoy your day.”

Dean smiled and turned around.  Castiel was watching him and mimed a plane going down and crashing, laughing silently.

“Hey, wait?” the woman said.

Dean paused and gave Castiel a grin and wink, and then he schooled his features to hopeful curiosity when he turned back around.

“Um,” the woman blushed slightly.  “What’s your name?”

“I’m Dean.  And you are?”

“Gemma.”

“Nice to meet you, Gemma.”

“Did…did you really minor in Women’s Studies?” she asked skeptically.

Dean raised his right hand.  “On my honor.  I did it because I thought it would help me pick up chicks, but it actually just helped me understand women and their struggles against the patriarchy that dominates our social, political, and economic environments.  It gave me a new found appreciation of what I take for granted, and has made me be more aware of my behavior.”  He ducked his head.  “Most of the time.”

Gemma put a hand on Dean’s forearm.  “Hey, it’s okay.  What you said wasn’t really that bad.  I mean, it was kind of funny.  I’m just wary, you know?”

“Totally understandable.”

Gemma looked him over.  “So, um, have you seen the hot tub out on the back veranda?”

“I’ve seen it.”

“Maybe we should…go check it out.”

“I would love to.  Let me close out my tab.”

“Okay.”

Dean walked back to the bartender and held out his hand.

“My card and fifty bucks please.”

Castiel pouted as he retrieved Dean’s card, but just before he placed it in his hand, he pulled it back.

“Tomorrow, double or nothing.”

Dean grinned and took his card back.  “You’re on.  See you tomorrow, Cas.”

~~~

Dean was acutely aware of the attractive bartender—uh, bartender—watching him as his mother kissed his cheek and asked for the tenth time if he really wouldn’t go skiing with them.  He told her he was happier in the lodge and would see them for lunch.  The Winchester family shuffled out of the lodge with their equipment and Dean wiped his cheek off with his arm.  Castiel was smirking as he mixed up a batch of Bloody Marys.

He took a seat in front of the man and watched him deftly assemble a tray with the pitcher, four glasses, small bowls of lemon wedges and olives, and a plate of celery sticks.  He had long, delicate fingers.  No, not delicate.  Graceful?

Dean looked up at the ceiling.  Damnit he did not just think that a guy’s hands were slender and graceful.

“Would you like one?” Castiel asked, pouring the leftover Bloody Mary mix into an ice-loaded Collins glass.

“Uh…sure.  You still owe me fifty bucks.  I can take it in drinks.”

Castiel made a face.  “I can’t believe you got that girl to go with you.  What did you say to her?”

“Nothing.  Just talked about my educational experiences.”

Castiel narrowed his eyes at him suspiciously as he handed over the drink.

“Don’t I get the frou-frou celery stick and stuff?”

“No.”

Dean smiled and took a sip.  Holy…He blinked as his eyes watered.  Damn.  No wonder people used these to cure hangovers.  Hair of the dog and Tabasco sauce would definitely wake a person up.

“Good?”

“Yeah, actually,” Dean wheezed and then coughed.

Castiel smiled and wiped off the water rings on the bar surface.  “So, did you sleep with her?”

“Who?”

“The chick from yesterday.”

“Nah.  Nothing happened.  We couldn’t do anything in the hot tub because other people were on the veranda and we’re both staying in rooms with family.”

“I see.”

“Didn’t you say something about double or nothing?”

“Yep.  One hundred dollars says you can’t pick up that chick.”  Castiel pointed with the towel in his hand and then slung it over his shoulder.

Dean looked over to where a young, cute redhead was talking to an elderly couple who were pointing to their tablets with upset and confusion on their features.

“She doesn’t look like a tourist.”

“She’s not.  She’s our IT specialist.”

“Does she have a boyfriend?”

“Nope.”

“Okay then.  One hundred dollars.  You’re on.”

Dean held out his hand.  Castiel leaned forward and shook his hand.  He pulled him close and Dean inhaled sharply as he thought that the guy was going to kiss him—and realized he wouldn’t be able to stop him.  Like, he wanted to stop him, of course, but he wouldn’t be able to because it happened so quickly and he’d just have to let the guy do it and then he could push him away after it happened, like after the guy’s lips were on his—but the guy didn’t kiss him.  He just smiled and trailed his fingers over Dean’s palm as he released his hand.

“Good luck, Dean.”

Dean cleared his throat and shoved all those unneeded weak arguments out of his head.  “Don’t need it, Cas.”

Dean stood up and shook out his shoulders, trying to dispel the mild weirdness he’d just experienced.  He waited for the redhead to smile brightly at the elderly couple, who were now smiling and thanking her, and then approached her as she walked away from them.

“Hi,” Dean said, offering her his third best smile.

“Hi!  Do you need help with one of the business center computers?  Or the Wi-Fi in your room?”

“What?  Oh, no.  I just, wanted to say hi to you.”

“Oh.  Okay.  Hi!”

The woman smiled and started on her way again.

“Wait, wait.  Are you busy?”

“Working?  Yes.”

“How about after work?”  He turned the smile up a notch.

The woman blinked at him, and then understanding dawned on her face.  “Oh!  Oh.  No.”  She laughed and shook her head.  “No, but thank you.”  She patted his arm and walked away.

Dean watched her, confused, and then he looked at Cas.  The bartender gave him a look of faux shock and surprise.  Dean rolled his eyes and walked back over to the bar.  He sat down and took another sip of his drink.  He coughed.

“Jesus.  I hope you didn’t serve these to anybody who still needed their livers.”

Castiel laughed.  “I may have added a little extra vodka to yours.”

“Thanks.”

“Don’t thank me.  I’m just trying to get you drunk enough to admit you’re a switch hitter.”

“I never played baseball.”

Castiel frowned at him.  “Please tell me you’re not that dumb or naïve.  I mean you are very pretty, but…”

“I…what are you—oh!  I don’t like dudes.”

“Okay.”

“I don’t!”

“Okay.  Have another sip.”

He smiled obnoxiously and Dean took another sip just to spite him.

“Still don’t like dudes.”

“Well, that’s a shame.  You owe me a hundred dollars though.”

“I do not!  The day’s not over.”

“Okay.  We can wait.  In the mean time, what did you say that made her laugh?”

Dean frowned as he thought about it.  “I don’t know.  I just asked if she was busy after work.”

“So the mere idea of going out with you is preposterous.”

“Shut-up, dick,” Dean muttered and took another sip of the tomato juice and vodka.  “That’s not it.”

“Maybe you need more than pickup lines.  I mean, you know you’re gorgeous, so you rely too heavily on your looks to get you what you want.”

“It works 99% of the time,” Dean boasted.

Castiel smiled, dragged his lower lip through his teeth, and looked Dean up and down.  “I’m sure it does.”

Dean’s face was warm.  Probably from the alcohol.

“But looks don’t work on everybody,” Castiel said.

“Hey, can I get a decaf cappuccino light foam, and a non-fat, non-dairy mocha latte with skinny whip?” a man announced his presence with no other greeting than his order.

Dean made a face at him, but Castiel smiled and set to work on his order.  Dean sulked and thought about how he was supposed to get someone to talk to him if his looks weren’t enough to get him in the door.  His looks always got him in the door.  Sealing the deal was the work of either thinly veiled innuendo or picking up on some interest of the woman’s and acting like he wanted to know everything about it.

The man left with his drinks after signing the charge to his room and Castiel tsked in irritation.

“Fucker didn’t leave a tip.”

“Overcharge him,” Dean said.  “People almost never check if their bills are right if the total seems right.”

“Yeah…maybe.  Anyway.  Have you determined how you’re going to hit on…that girl?”

“What’s her name?”

“Can’t tell you that.  You gotta get that on your own.”

Dean drained his glass and slid it closer to Castiel so he could send it off to the kitchen to be washed.

“What have you got so far?”

“What do you mean?” Dean asked, feeling floaty and a little bit like he shouldn’t have had that drink on an empty stomach.

“What are you going to use on her?  Try it out on me.”

“I don’t flirt with men.”

“Pretend I’m her.”

“Can’t.  You’re prettier than her.”  Dean checked.  “Wait.  She’s prettier than you.”

“You sure?”

Dean rubbed his nose, trying to sort out which way he meant that.  “No, not sure.  Anyway, here goes.  So, how do you like working here?”

Castiel shrugged.  “Pays the bills while I go to business school.”

“Business school.  What for?  Wait.  I’m not asking you, I’m asking her.”

“I know.  I’m being her.”

“Are you?”

Castiel put on a simpering smile and pretended to twirl a piece of long hair.  “It pays the bills while I go to business school,” he said in a high-pitched voice.

Dean put up a hand.  “Stop.”

Cas laughed and dipped below the bar for a moment.  He returned with a small cutting board, a sharp knife, and three lemons and two limes.  He began cutting the fruit into small wedges.

“Okay,” Dean said.  “Business school.  What for?”

“Well,” Castiel said in his normal voice, which was low and growly and more interesting than it had been a moment ago.  “A friend and I are working to learn the ins and outs of running a business so that we can open one together when we get a loan.”

“What kind of business?”

“I can’t tell you that right now.  Only investors can know.”

Dean leered.  “Well, I’d like to invest in you.”

Castiel laughed.  “And…you just lost a hundred dollars because she is out the door.”

“Damn it.”

“Really?  ‘I’d like to invest in you’?  So tacky.”

“What would you say?”

“I’m not helping you.”

“Would that have worked on you?”

“Oh, yeah.  But I’m easy.”  Cas winked at him and then carried the fruit wedges over to the small fridge behind the bar for storage.

Dean smiled and traced his finger around the puddle of condensation left behind by his drink.  Cas was pulled away by other customers to make coffee and hot chocolate for the late morning rush, but Dean stayed at the bar and waited until the bartender was free again.

“Still here?” Cas asked.  “You want some breakfast?”

Dean checked his watch.  “My family will be back in another hour or so.  I’m supposed have lunch with them.”

“I could get you a plate of southwestern egg rolls.  They probably won’t fill you up too much.”

“Okay.”

Castiel entered the order and then leaned on the bar.  He was able to get closer this time because Dean was sitting at a section of the bar where there was no equipment on the other side.

“So, Dean, you want to try again?”

“Try what?”

“Hitting on Ch—the IT Girl.”

“Ah.  So her name starts with ‘ch.’  So…Chastity?”

“Chastity?  You think someone named their kid Chastity?”

“Went to school with a girl named Charity.  Met a dancer named Chastity.”

“A ‘dancer?’” Cas asked with a raised eyebrow.

“She danced.  Pole dancing is still dancing.”

“Unh-huh.”

“Whatever, dude.  Even if I crash and burn, I can always try again.”

“No…you only get one shot.”

“That wasn’t a part of the original deal.”

Castiel shrugged.

“Alright.  Two hundred then.  I get one shot at her, I get two hundred dollars.”

“Okay.”

“But, I get to practice on you.  And you can’t give fake answers!”

Castiel considered for a moment.  “Okay.  Fair enough.”

They shook hands again.  Dean smiled his level two smile.  “So, do you like snow?”

Cas made a buzzer sound and an X with his arms.  “Try again, stud.”

~~~

For the rest of the week, Dean used his best lines, his best smiles, and best sympathy-inducing stories on Castiel in his practice for seducing the IT Girl.  He was rebuffed every time, except one time Castiel had gone a little starry-eyed while listening to Dean recount the story of how he’d helped his little brother nurse a one-eyed kitten back to health after the ten year old had found it in the park near their house.  He’d been crying and full of snot and his knees had been scraped because he’d tripped but refused to drop the kitten so he’d fallen hard on his knees on a gravel path.  Dean had kept the kitten hidden in his room from their parents for six months.  Then they’d put up flyers and found the kitten a good home.  To this day, he still didn’t think his parents knew about it.  It had been a major pain in the butt, but he’d done it for Sam.

That story always worked.  It showed that he cared about kids and family and animals.  He’d never not gotten laid after telling it, and he was certain he’d could have gotten laid Thursday night if he’d had the slightest inclination to sleep with Cas.  He’d smirked at the bartender.

“Will it work on IT Girl?”

“Hmm?”  Castiel had shaken himself and straightened.  “Um.  No.”

“Come on, dude!  You’re ready to crawl over this counter and suck me off right here.”

“True.  But I was willing to do that on Sunday.”

Dean had kept his smile in place, but could feel his face getting warm.  Usually he grew immune to people’s teasing after a while, but Castiel could still make him blush fairly easily.

“It will work on her too.”

“It might make her like you, but not want to go on a date with you.”

That caution was the reason why Dean hadn’t gone after IT Girl on Thursday.  Friday morning had been boring because Castiel worked the evening shifts on the weekends.  He’d allowed himself to be persuaded by his family to go to snowboarding lessons.  It had been fun for five minutes until he’d wiped out and wound up at the lodge with a twisted ankle.  He’d sulked by the fire and sipped hot chocolate and wished Castiel was working.

That evening Dean refused to use the crutches the ski resort had offered him and limped his way to the dining room.  They were almost done with dinner when the “entertainment” for the evening stepped out onto the small stage in the corner.  They had eaten early most nights to avoid this very thing, but they’d been late because of Dean’s ankle.  The performer was a “comedian illusionist.”  After two terrible puns and an “illusion” that Dean had seen explained on YouTube, he’d begged to be released from this fourth circle of hell.  His mother let him go, but refused to let his father escape.  Sam was smiling like a kid with his eyes glued to the stage.

Dean hobbled away from his family and made his way to the bar.  There were two bartenders to cover the busy Friday night, and Castiel was one of them.  He sat at the end and waited for Castiel to notice him.  He leaned close again and smiled sympathetically.

“Heard about your wipeout.”

Dean turned red to the tips of his ears.  “ _What_?”

“Oh, yeah.  Some guy careening down the bunny slope on a snow board going _at least_ two or three miles per hour and still managing to go tumbling headlong into the eight and under beginner’s class?  It made the rounds.”

Dean scowled and slumped forward onto the bar.  Castiel laughed at him.

“You shouldn’t laugh.  It hurts.”

“I’m sorry.”

“I don’t suppose IT Girl has a Florence Nightingale kink, does she?”

Cas chuckled.  “Not that I know of.”

Dean sighed.  “Well, I might be screwed then.  I’m leaving tomorrow.”

Castiel’s smile disappeared.  “Tomorrow?”

“Yeah.  We’re only here for the week deal.”

“I see.”  He fidgeted with the towel in his hand.  Then he looked up.  “Hey, if you want, I know of something that might make your ankle feel better.”

Dean perked up.  He had weed?  “Yeah, okay.”

“Hang on, let me ask Gabe to cover me.”

Castiel spoke to the other bartender, and then removed his black apron before walking around the bar and helping Dean hobble from the room.  He took them down an employees only hallway and slipped inside a supply closet.  He cleared some bags of flour off a low shelf and helped Dean sit down on it and rest his back against the wall.

“You’re not worried about the smell?” Dean asked.

“No,” Castiel said and locked the door.

He walked over to Dean and knelt in front of him.  Then he reached for his fly.  Dean stared dumbly as Castiel got his pants open and then leaned forward to nose at the bulge in his underwear.  Finally Dean’s brain snapped back online.

“Wait, wait!  I thought you had something that would make my ankle feel better.”

“This will help.  It’ll take your mind off it and give you a natural endorphin high.  May I continue?”

“I thought you were talking about weed,” Dean mumbled.

Castiel kissed Dean through the cloth of his underwear.  “Is that a no?”

“No.”

Dean closed his eyes and let his head fall back.   _Just pretend it’s a girl, just pretend it’s a girl_ —Dean opened his eyes.  That was definitely a dude.  That was definitely Castiel.  And he was definitely getting hard.

Girls never bothered with foreplay for oral.  They just wanted to get it over with, but Cas—damn he took his time and he still had his underwear on.  He was a little disappointed when the condom was rolled on, but he understood.  Castiel shifted Dean’s leg over his shoulder so that his injured ankle wouldn’t press on the floor when his body jerked with the pleasurable sensations.  And Dean jerked a lot.  He was having trouble reconciling the fact that he was getting an amazing blowjob from a guy, so he tried not to enjoy it—but fuck, Cas wouldn’t let him _not_ enjoy it.

The one upside to wearing the condom was that he technically got to come in Cas’ mouth without making a mess or choking anybody.  Dean basked in the afterglow, not feeling his ankle at all as Castiel threw away the used condom and zipped up Dean’s pants.  Dean cracked his eyes open and Castiel’s uniform dress pants did nothing to hide his erection.  Dean reached out and grabbed his wrist.  Cas shook his head.

“You don’t have to do anything, Dean.”

Dean considered the out, and then decided he didn’t want to take it.  He pulled on Castiel’s arm, turning him, and then settled him in his lap.  He reached around and figured if he could do it like this, it would be no different than masturbating.  Except for the fact that Castiel was a warm solid weight against his chest and kept moaning softly in his ear from where his head rested on Dean’s shoulder.  When he got close, Castiel used the towel tucked into his pocket to catch his release.  All in all, everything had been quite clean and sanitary.  Though he probably wasn’t going to eat anything for breakfast in the morning.  Who knew how many other employees used the food supply closet for random hookups?

They made their way to the door, Dean still leaning on Castiel even though his ankle really wasn’t hurting him that much anymore.  Cas paused before opening the door.

“You know…I’ve never exchanged orgasms with a person I’ve never even kissed before.”

Dean blinked as he processed that.  That was a weird factoid to share.  Until he figured out that he and Cas had never kissed.  So, he leaned in and kissed him.  Castiel immediately kissed back, very enthusiastically.  Dean was still a little shell-shocked and just let it happen.  When they broke for air, Dean’s brain was too confused for him to know if he’d like it or not.  No, he’d liked it, Castiel was a good kisser, but he didn’t know if he wanted it to happen again.  Well…it was happening again right now, so…

Dean decided to let his brain take a break and allowed his body to take over.  His hand slid into the silky hair at the back of Cas’ head and pulled him closer.  Castiel hummed and hugged him tighter.  They startled apart when someone rattled the handle and banged on the door.

“Not again!” the disembodied voice on the other side of the door said.  “You kids need to find a new place to hookup!  I will be back in exactly forty-five seconds and you better be gone!”

Dean and Cas were gone in fifteen seconds.  Back in the main dining hall, Castiel had to return immediately to work.  The illusionist was done and the Winchesters were just heading up to their rooms.  Sam had Monopoly tucked under his arm.

“Oh, I’m glad we found you!” Sam said.  “Epic round of Monopoly before we all split up again.”

Dean nodded.  “Sounds good.”

He glanced back at the bar as they left the dining room, but Castiel was leaning close to some guy to get his order.  He laughed when he straightened and threw the guy a wink as he picked up a martini glass.  Dean wondered if he’d just been a conquest for him—seduce the straight (ish) guy, and then move on to someone else.  He needed to win over IT Girl before he left.

~~~

In the morning, John and Sam were grumpily eating their breakfasts because Mary had demolished them all at Monopoly.  Dean had barely paid attention because he kept running over in his mind what had happened in the supply closet.  It had gotten awkward when he’d popped a boner at the memory one time, but he’d stared at his battleship game piece until it went away.

Despite his knowledge of the illicit and unsanitary goings on in the supply closets of the resort, Dean still ate the pancakes and bacon.  He was hungry.  Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted Cas working at the bar.  Curious, and because he was a masochist apparently, he excused himself from the table and walked over to the bar.  The bartender had bags under his eyes and looked exhausted.  The lodge bar stayed open until 3:00am on weekends, and it was 7:30am now since his father wanted them to get on the road to the airport by eight o’clock.

“So, why are you working back to back shifts?” Dean asked.

Castiel looked up, and then his face broke into a smile that nearly wiped away his tired appearance.

“I usually don’t, but I took this one because I wanted to see you again before you left.  Today’s your last day, right?”

Dean nodded, feeling a blush stain his cheeks.

“Good, then I caught you.  I—”

“Yeah, it’s good you’re here.  I need you to see me win over IT Girl.”

Castiel’s smile wilted.  “Oh…”

“She normally gets coffee around this time, right?”

“Y-yeah.”

As if summoned, the redhead appeared from the business room and crossed over to the bar.

“Morning, Cas!  Don’t usually see you on Saturdays.  Can I get the usual?”

“Sure.”

Castiel moved to begin making her coffee.  The woman turned and smiled at Dean.

“Hi.  Enjoying your stay?”

“Yes.  I’m Dean.  I never got your name.”

He held out a hand and she shook it.

“Charlie.”

“Nice to meet you.”

“You too.  Sorry about your wipeout the other day.”

Dean flushed.  “Uh, yeah, it was no big deal.   My ankle’s totally fine now.”

“Good.  I remember one time I was walking to class on campus and the whole place was a sheet of ice because they never cancel classes for snow or ice there and swoop!” She slid one hand on the other, making a clapping noise.  “Down I went.  Bruised my tailbone.  I had to sit on one of those donut pillow things for a month.”

Dean laughed.  “Sorry to hear that.  Where don’t they close school for ice?”

“New England.  Boston, specifically.  Our school does a trimester schedule thingy, so we get a really long winter break.  It let’s us have the time to come work here during the high season to earn a little extra cash.  Good thing we have family connections.  Well, he does.”

Dean shook his head.  “We?  He?”

“Oh, right!  Sorry.  Skipped ahead in the conversation.  Cas and I.  Cas’ family owns this resort.  But we go to school in Boston.”

“Really?”

Dean glanced at Cas as he set down Charlie’s coffee.

“Yeah, it’s kind of weird for us.  We’re like, hippie mountain people so New England is definitely a change.  But I would never go back and do it again.  It’s fun.  Also, I met my girlfriend there.”

Dean smiled.  “That’s nice.”  Then it clicked.  “Your girlfriend?”

“Unh-huh.  Joanna Beth.  So cute.  Smells like summer year round.  Beautiful hair.”

Dean looked at Castiel.  “Girlfriend.”

The bartender shrugged.  Charlie looked between them.

“Am I missing something?”

“He bet me two hundred dollars that I couldn’t get you to go out with me.  He failed to mention you didn’t play for my team.”

“Okay, one, that’s super gross.  Shame on both of you.  And two…why would that bet even come up?  I mean, you two have been flirting nonstop all week.”

“That was practice for you!”

“Oh, honey,” Charlie said as she patted his arm.  “You weren’t practicing for me.”

Dean’s body tightened and his skin prickled all over.

“Well.  You both seem suitably uncomfortable now, which is no less than you deserve for making gross bets about women.  Cas, I’m not talking to you for a whole day.  And Dean…well…you look like you’re distressed enough that this will be adequate punishment.  Bye!”

Charlie grabbed her coffee and scampered off.  Dean and Castiel stood in awkward silence.  It was disrupted when Dean’s father passed by on his way out of the dining room.

“Hey, we’re checking out.  Grab your bag and head for the shuttle bus.”

“O-okay.”

Dean glanced at Cas.  He looked like he was struggling to find something to say.  He looked worried that Dean would walk away without another word, without a goodbye.  Dean picked up a cocktail napkin and plucked the pen out of Castiel’s shirt pocket.  He wrote down his email and cell number.  He folded the napkin up and tucked it into Cas’ pocket with the pen.

“I’m working toward my Master’s at MIT,” he said.

A smile slowly formed on Cas’ pretty lips–-pretty lips that Dean couldn’t deny he found pretty anymore.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Castiel leaned over the bar and Dean glanced around to make sure his family wasn’t in the room, and then met him in a brief kiss.

“You can buy me a cannoli from Mike’s to make up for this fixed BS bet.”

“After dinner in the North End?” Cas asked hopefully.

“Yes, Cas,” Dean sighed with exaggerated exasperation.  “You can take me out on a date.”

Castiel smiled.  “See you in a couple of weeks, Dean.  Don’t forget about me,” he added with a wink.

“Couldn’t if I wanted to,” Dean mumbled, still fucking blushing, and walked to the front desk to join his family.

***

Castiel reached up and took the napkin out of his pocket.  Dean had written down his email address and a phone number.  He smiled as he fingered the note, and then folded it carefully and put it in his wallet.  Hannah moseyed up beside him.

“You want me to take over now?” she asked.

“Would you?  I need some sleep.”

“Sure.  I can’t believe you seduced a straight guy.”

Cas shrugged.  “He’s not that straight.”

Hannah held out a wad of bills to him.  “Take it, you earned it.”

Castiel shook his head.  “Keep your money.  What I got is priceless.”

“Okay.  How about double or nothing he pretends like he never met you when you look him up in Boston.”

Castiel grinned and waved at Dean as he passed by the doorway of the dining room on his way out with his family.  He smiled shyly and waved back.

“I bet you we’ll be married within a year.”

Hannah scoffed.  “Yeah, okay.”

~~~

“Where’s my money, cousin?” Cas asked as he swirled Hannah around the dance floor, avoiding awkward family members and small children running around underfoot.

“What money?”

“Our bet?”

“Oh.  You see.  We made that bet in January.  It’s March.  It’s been over a year.  You actually owe _me_ money.”

Castiel frowned.  “How about you give us a wedding present and we call it even?”

“Fair enough.”

“Hi,” Dean said, stopping the couple midstride.  “Mind if I cut in?”

“She’s all yours,” Cas said, stepping back.

Dean looked panicked for a moment, but then smiled and turned toward Hannah.  Hannah laughed and batted his arm.

“Jesus.  We know who you meant.”

She left them and Cas was still smiling as his husband pulled him into his arms.  They stayed stationary on the floor as they swayed to the music, pressed close together.  Castiel sighed in complete happiness and contentment.

“So…what’s this I hear about your family betting on when we’ll get divorced?”

Castiel’s eyes flew open.  He lifted his head from Dean’s shoulder.  “They’re not!  Are they?”

Dean nuzzled their noses.  “Don’t worry, babe.  I put us down for never.”


End file.
